


parenthetical

by tanyart



Category: Destiny (Video Games)
Genre: M/M, Mutual Pining, Spoilers for The Last Word quest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-30
Updated: 2019-01-30
Packaged: 2019-10-19 13:32:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,004
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17602292
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tanyart/pseuds/tanyart
Summary: Some time after everything, Shin Malphur watches a Gambit match.





	parenthetical

**Author's Note:**

> Spoilers for The Last Word quest, takes place an unknown couple of months after.

It’s not part of the usual routine for Shin to swing by the Derelict and watch a Gambit match. Drifter doesn’t get so much of a _hello_ or even an acknowledging look when he pops into the backroom to find Shin already in front of the viewing screens, avidly watching the round start.

Drifter pauses, eyeing Shin’s frozen silhouette outlined by the bright glare from the screens. He doesn’t even think Shin’s noticed him stepping in, but he can take a guess to what’s got his attention; the same thing that’s got most of this damn system’s attention.

“There’s your favorite guardian,” Drifter says. No need to blab about how that _one_ guardian happens to be his favorite too. Sometimes. At least recently.

Shin doesn’t say a thing. Doesn’t even move aside so it forces Drifter to stand next to him, not _too_ close, but close enough that Drifter’s frowning. The look on Shin’s face ain’t one to be messed with either, and Drifter would rather not have his players hear him get into a fistfight over the comms.

Shin leans forward, bracing his hands over the table. Drifter doesn’t have a fancy setup like Shaxx — mismatched screens of various sizes, different angles, some sitting on top of the desk and others hanging by wires and stands. Shin seems fixated on a particular screen, which is just as well. Better than him crowding more into Drifter’s limited space. Drifter lets him have it.

Besides, it’s not the first time Drifter’s seen the Guardian pull out the Last Word for a Gambit match. He spares one more sidelong look. It might be Shin’s.

So Drifter does his job, nice and professional-like, but he’s anticipating his cue, knowing exactly what Shin’s waiting on.

It takes a few minutes, but through all that Shin’s silent as the grave. At first Drifter expects to hear some criticisms, maybe even some side comments about how the gun ought to be handled — not that the Guardian is doing a bad job. Far from it, judging from how the motes keep stacking up.

Not a word from Shin, but Drifter sneaks a glance just as the the counter reaches past twenty-five motes.

Shin’s eyes are bright. Could just be the screen making his eyes shine, but there’s no mistaking the look of rapt fascination, like he’s in awe of something amazing.

And maybe he ain’t too far off from the truth. Drifter looks away.

“Portal’s open,” he announces over the comms, just a second late.

The Guardian goes through, the Last Word flashing in their hands. It doesn’t take long.

One down. Two. A few seconds to hunt the third. Then —

“You got ‘em all,” Drifter confirms.

Shin’s shoulders lower by a fraction. Drifter catches the movement from the corner of his eye. There’s a funny little twist in Shin’s expression, like he isn’t quite sure what to make of what he’s seeing, other than finding it ironic in the end. Not that Drifter can blame him; must’ve been weird as hell seeing the Last Word used for a game of Darkness and, not much later, to feed primevals.

It’s strange for Drifter too. He’d always imagined that if Shin Malphur ever got to putting him down, it would’ve been with the Last Word. ‘Course, Shin could use his Golden Gun just as easy, but there’s something more terrifying about a simple bullet to the head, no Light, no Darkness, just the mechanical click of a gun, pull of the finger, the raw tear through flesh and shatter of bone. The Last Word’s got the grim weight of a reputation, and of the notorious man behind it.

Drifter scrubs at his face, suddenly tired. His nightmares have been becoming weird lately.

Meanwhile, the Guardian dies to an invader, caught in the middle of reloading. Still getting used to the gun. Ah, well.

“Should’ve used Malfeasance,” Drifter mutters, a touch bitter.

Shin’s head doesn’t turn away from the screens, but he scoffs. There’s a crinkle at the corner of his eye though. Definitely not a smile, but maybe the passing thought of one. Then it occurs to Drifter that he’s watching Shin instead of watching the match. He oughta let the guy MC the round at this rate — and Drifter stops _that_ thought right there too.

He does, however, drop his hand at the back of Shin’s neck, gripping lightly by the curve of his forefinger and thumb. To his surprise, Shin’s head bows under his hand, and it’s just plain old gravity that causes Drifter’s palm to slide up the nape of his neck and through his hair to ruffle the ends before lowering his hand back to his side.

Shin glances at him then. It’s probably not the same look of admiration he’s been throwing the Guardian, but something just as intense. Drifter’s too busy speaking into the comms to think much on it.

The first round ends as expected. The Guardian pulls through with the help of their team. Drifter has a feeling he knows how the whole match will turn out, but even so, he turns quick when Shin pushes off the table like he’s had enough. Probably wants to run off and find a quiet place to think, knowing him.

Drifter hand comes up to make a grab for Shin’s elbow — almost, but not quite. It stops midway to rest at his own belt, near his gun. Old habits.

“Not gonna watch the rest of it?”

Shin shrugs. “Don’t need to,” he says, but not before clapping Drifter’s shoulder once and walking off.

“How ‘bout after the match?”

Shin pauses, the shimmer of his transmat dying away. He can hear the sly tone in Drifter’s voice loud and clear. Even fires back the same way too; “Don’t need to. Next round’s about to start. Shouldn’t you be out there?”

Drifter scoffs, but gets to walking back into the ready room.

 

* * *

 

(And if Shin’s still there after he gets back, Drifter’s got no one to blame but himself.)


End file.
